The Slave of Pleasure
Chapter 42

Rachel

Dr. Afonse approached Vincenzo with a careful, almost calculated posture. He began the conversation with seemingly simple questions, but I knew that each word was chosen to test something in Vincenzo's mind. I was there, just observing, unable to do or say anything. My role at that moment was to be a silent witness. To watch. To listen. To process.

"Vincenzo, how are you feeling now?" The doctor began, as if he were casually making a conversation. Vincenzo, always so self-assured, answered with the same usual assurance: "I'm fine, doctor. Just a little tired, but nothing serious." I watched Vincenzo's eyes, the way he maintained eye contact with the doctor, without any trace of doubt or confusion. He seemed to be completely in control. For a moment, I almost let myself be carried away by the normality of the situation. I almost believed that everything was fine.

But Dr. Afonse continued: "Do you remember what we discussed earlier? About the treatment we are planning?" Vincenzo frowned slightly, a trace of doubt crossing his face. "Treatment? I don't remember us discussing that." The doctor nodded, as if he had expected this answer. "What about the last time we were together? In the hospital?" Vincenzo shook his head, clearly confused now. "No... I don't remember being in the hospital with you, doctor." I could feel my breath catch. The fear I had been trying to suppress began to return, taking over me, but I remained silent. It was as if my emotions were blocked by an invisible barrier, and I knew I had to keep it steady. This was not the time to let panic take over. Doctor Afonse followed with a few more questions, keeping his tone calm and controlled. He asked about events from the recent past, carefully observing each of Vincenzo's answers. The way he analyzed Vincenzo was meticulous, like a puzzle being put together piece by piece. I, on the other hand, was trying to keep my mind focused. My thoughts had been racing since the beginning of this crisis, but at that moment, I managed to calm down. The only thing that really existed for me at that moment was the conversation taking place in front of me. The dialogue between Dr. Afonse and Vincenzo became the only sound in the room, the only focus of my mind.

At the end of the conversation, after all the questions and answers, Dr. Afonse finally stopped. He took a deep breath and looked at me, before turning to Vincenzo. "Well, Vincenzo, based on everything we discussed, and the symptoms you're presenting..." He paused, as if he were carefully gathering his words. "Selective amnesia. That's the diagnosis."

There it was. Again, those words that had been thrown around earlier, but now they came with more weight, more certainty. Dr. Afonse was convinced, and that brought a mix of relief and concern to me. At least now we knew what was happening, but what about the future? What would it be like from now on?

As silence hung over the room, I watched Dr. Afonse open his leather case, his movements meticulous, as if he already knew exactly what to look for. The atmosphere was heavy with accumulated tension, and without thinking much, I broke the silence.

"When we were coming back from the hospital, his nose bled... a little."

My voice sounded louder than I expected, echoing in the almost muffled space between us. I felt all eyes turn to me, even the butler watching me sideways. Vincenzo, sitting on the bed, maintained an indecipherable expression. He seemed confused, but at the same time calm, as if the situation had not yet completely affected him.

The doctor stopped fiddling with his case for a moment and looked at me with a more serious expression, his eyes narrowing at my words. He immediately directed his gaze to Vincenzo, studying him as if he were assessing his physical condition with just a glance. It was then that, as quickly as he had diagnosed selective amnesia, he spoke.

"Mild arterial rupture... if that is indeed the problem, it is nothing serious."

I could hardly believe the speed of his response, but the doctor's words brought a balm of relief to me. Like a wave finally receding after crashing hard on the sand, I felt the weight on my chest ease. If Vincenzo's nosebleed was just a mild rupture, then perhaps things were not as bad as I had feared.

Still, my gaze instinctively turned to Vincenzo. I couldn't help but worry. What if there was something more, something the doctor had not yet detected? But Alfonse seemed confident, almost calm. Perhaps he had seen cases like this countless times and knew that it was nothing to worry about.

The doctor placed the bottle of capsules he had taken out on the table.first back into the case and carefully took out another vial, as if this was what Vincenzo really needed. He didn't say anything right away, but the gesture itself was enough to reassure me a little more. The confidence in the doctor's actions was almost contagious.

As he held the new vial, my mind wandered for a moment. I didn't know if I should ask more questions or simply trust Alfonse's judgment. Vincenzo still seemed oblivious to all the tension in the room. I, on the other hand, continued to struggle not to show all the fear and uncertainty that had been consuming me since he started acting strangely.

The butler, always quiet and efficient, remained by our side, carefully observing the doctor's every move. It seemed that he was there both to support me and to make sure that everything went well with his boss.

I wanted to say more, perhaps to question whether this medicine would really help Vincenzo or if it would just be a temporary solution. But I held myself back. Now, I could only hope that Doctor Afonse knew exactly what he was doing, and that this was the right step to bring Vincenzo back to his normal self.